


First Daughter

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-03
Updated: 2001-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so far.





	First Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

RATING: G  
NOTES: New series. See Part One.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the West Wing or any of its related   
characters. Don't sue.   
SUMMARY: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so   
far.

Gina seems lost in thought this morning. I hope she's okay. Maybe   
she's just thinking about her birthday. I'll bet she doesn't know   
that I know it's coming up. I still have to pick up the book I got   
her and wrap it. How am I suppose to pick up her present with her   
always watching me like a hawk (not that I mind her watching me like   
a hawk)? I'll get Charlie to do it. Or maybe David Arbor. He owes me.   
A lot.   
Where is Charlie anyway? Damn I missed them. Good ole dad, always   
on the move. I swear he's got more energy than the Georgetown   
University student body combined. Even when he had a bullet hole in   
his side, he had to be his happy-happy-joy-joy self, making jokes   
while I'm standing there, desperately trying not to cry.   
I still feel bad for ralphing all over the damn car.   
I hope no one knows how scared I was that night. I hope I'll   
never be that scared again. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined   
that my life would lead to that moment in Rosslyn. When I was little,   
I would imagine the man I was going to marry, but it had never   
occurred to me what color he was going to be. It had never crossed my   
mind.   
I'm almost positive that Charlie is the man I'm going to marry. I   
can't be 100% positive about it because I'm never 100% positive about   
anything. Not any more. I doubt ever again.   
I have a class in an hour. I want to study in dad's office until   
they get back, or at least until it's time to go. Studying isn't   
what's on my mind right now though.   
My dad's been a politician forever. For as long as I've been   
alive, people either address him by a title or by the word `sir'. No   
one had ever tried to kill him before. I know Ron and Gina say that   
my father wasn't the target (which was not entirely comforting) but   
those shooters were declaring war on my father the moment they pulled   
their triggers.   
I'm still scared sometimes, but I know that I have my family and   
Charlie and my friends and Gina and so many other people that make me   
feel better. I think about it and I realize that originally, I wasn't   
going to be there. My father asked me to go with him that day, so the   
shooters couldn't have known that I was going to be there. I wasn't   
supposed to be there.   
They wanted to kill Charlie, but not me. In a pair of people   
whose relationship inspired those creeps to open fire, they only   
wanted to destroy him. He's only one half of the whole, but he was   
the only one they wanted.   
I love him.   
Maybe they did want to kill me too. I know that I'd been getting   
death threats as well as Charlie. Maybe it was just a stroke of luck   
for them that I was there. After all, they had to have known I was   
there by the end of the night and they fired anyway.   
I don't know why I'm thinking about this. It's stressful to think   
about it, but I feel like it's good for me. I feel like, if I keep   
thinking about it, pretty soon I can think about it without getting   
totally stressed out. Thinking about it is almost therapeutic.   
My teachers and friends behaved kind of strangely when I came   
back. I wonder if they all felt sorry for me or something. Maybe they   
were proud of me for pulling through, I don't know. I'm not even sure   
about how I feel about the whole thing, except that I'm glad everyone   
important is still alive and we all made it through.   
By important, I mean everyone but the shooters.   
I have no sympathy for them. No one has asked me in a long time   
how I feel. I suppose they want to put the past behind us. The   
shooting was nearly six months ago, right?  
They tried to kill the man that I love because I love him. That   
just doesn't go away.   
I stop and I think about my life so far. I grew up the child of   
an economics professor and a medical doctor. My two parents were also   
politicians, for a politician's wife is a politician herself. My two   
sisters grew up and moved out of the nest. I'm trying to do the same   
now, but my parents are such a big part of my life; I think I'll   
always be close to both of them. My sisters decided on distance;   
that's not what I want.   
They called as soon as they heard about the shooting. I hadn't heard   
from them in ages, and suddenly I hear their voices, crying out of   
fear and joy that we're okay. They were heartbroken to hear about   
Josh, but they kept coming back to saying that they were so glad that   
dad and I were okay. My sisters were glad we were okay.   
They didn't ask about Charlie.   
It's good to be alive. I guess it's kind of ironic for me to say   
that, but it's true. It's good to be alive and to be able to continue   
living. I don't know if I'm saying that because of the shooting or   
I'm just saying it because I want to say it or because I need to say   
it...   
It's good to be alive.   
I don't know where I want to go right now. I'm happy just sitting   
here in my father's office, staring at the window, curled up on the   
couch. The morning sunlight is streaming in, which is kind of   
refreshing in the winter season. We're not used to sunlight in the   
winter; snow is more common than sunlight this year. I think this   
year got off to a strange start, so the weather decided to go with   
the flow and be strange with it.   
I wonder where I'll be in ten years. I hope I'm somewhere where   
I'm as happy as my parents are today. I want to be a doctor and   
Charlie told me that he wants to go into politics. Maybe I really   
will end up like my parents. The doctor politician's wife and the   
politician headed for greatness.   
I wouldn't mind that.   
Time flies a lot faster than it used to. I feel so much older   
than I am. I feel like it was just yesterday that I was playing games   
with my sisters in the Governor's mansion back in New Hampshire.   
Then, all of a sudden, I'm back at Rosslyn; There are people   
screaming and I'm in the limo, vomiting all over the floor, and all I   
can think about is my father and Charlie.  
And somewhere, Josh is fighting for his life.   
Was it my fault? I asked Charlie out. If I hadn't...   
I really need to stop thinking about this. My entire life does   
not consist of that one night. My life consists of so much more than   
that. I am not just the result of that night. I am the result of my   
entire life, a life that existed before Rosslyn and it will continue   
to exist now.   
It's almost time to head for the school. It's almost time to step   
back into my role of the resilient Bartlet daughter. The whole thing   
is like old news to everybody; except for Josh's PSTD, it feels like   
we've forgotten about what happened that night and all the   
repercussions of it. We've moved on; we explore other venues; we try   
not to dwell in the past. I think I need to talk to someone from   
ATVA. Maybe I can just talk to someone in general.  
Would that look bad? The President's daughter needs a shrink?   
Maybe I just don't know if I can walk around with all this stuff in   
my head without the ability to spill it out to someone, anyone. I   
feel okay about the shooting; I've moved on; I'm exploring other   
venues; I don't dwell in the past... But I just want to be able to   
talk about it and not be consumed by the memories.   
I want a car. Or maybe a dog. A friend of mine has the sweetest   
dog in the world and the little guy has been there for her through a   
lot. She says he's "there" for the food and her hand that feeds him,   
but there's something about a dog that's comforting. I could use some   
comforting right now.   
Maybe my friend will lend me hers.   
I'll talk to Charlie later. Right now, I think Gina's happy to be   
going back to the limo. She likes the limo, I think. I'd gotten used   
to them. She says they're good protection-wise; only so many ways in   
or out. Personally, I think she just likes the mini-tv.

*******************

  


End file.
